The Sleeping Beauty
by myska-na-mrazu
Summary: My take on the Vienna in springtime theme. The story takes place in 1892. Please note that Chapter 1 is more or less just an intro: there will be more action  and romance  further on! ;  Oh, and please note that English is not my mother tongue ;
1. Chapter 1

Nikola Tesla entered the foyer of the Ambassador Hotel in Vienna in a cheerless disposition, feeling he had just wasted hours of his precious time, potentially even his entire trip to his fatherland – although he did enjoy the undeniable perks of catching up with the latest art production of the empire.

Then he spotted her: a young lady in a reddish auburn dress embroidered with black silk around the lapels and sleeves of the jacket. She was standing at the reception counter, which, together with the travel dress and the assortment of suitcases next to her suggested she had just arrived.

Nikola smiled and casually strolled over to the counter, leaning against it with his left elbow some distance from the lady. "Well, well, well, it would seem miracles do occur at times."

She looked at him, surprised to hear the familiar voice in such an unexpected situation, but giving him a mild smile anyway: "Nikola. I didn't know you were in Vienna."

"Yes, and I am just about to stop regretting it," he grinned pointedly. "You look particularly lovely, Helen, if I may say so."

"Has your business here failed, then?" she asked, ignoring the compliment. With Nikola Tesla, it was dangerous to pick up on these things – not that it ever stopped him sending more her way.

"Oh, the usual utter disaster," he waved his hand dismissively. "Cannot be helped when dealing with the feeble-minded. One of these days I will lose my faith in this degenerate empire and leave them to their own devices."

"You certainly seem to have an interesting story to tell. Unless you're too disgusted to share it," Helen anticipated.

"Oh, I'd be happy to share my vision with you, Helen," he assured her with a bit of a sour grin. "You're most likely to be the only person in Vienna to take my side."

"Well…" she started, but the receptionist returned at that moment and cut off the conversation.

"My apologies for the delay, madam. Your room is now ready," he handed her the key, "and our staff will bring up your luggage momentarily. Welcome back, Mr. Tesla," he added. "I trust your meeting at the Town Hall went well?"

Nikola fought the urge to roll his eyes and gave the receptionist a charming fake smile. "Oh, it satisfied my expectations fully," he replied pleasantly, and Helen had to suppress a chuckle. Nikola offered her his arm, which she accepted, and they walked towards the staircase.

"Are you sure you need a separate room, though?" he tried when they were out of hearing distance from the reception. "I'd be happy to let you share mine. You know I barely use the bed anyway – you'd have it all to yourself," he added with hope.

"I knew I was missing something," she nodded as if she had just found proof for a theorem. "And here it is!"

"Can't blame a vampire for trying," he shrugged. "How about a walk then? Once you've freshened up, or whatever it is you ladies do…"

"Very well, then; meet me in the foyer in an hour," she agreed.

"Can't wait," he winked at her, and left her at her room's door, while he continued his ascension to the attic apartment he occupied.

An hour later they indeed met in the foyer, him in an immaculate black suit and she in a simple but elegant brown walking dress decorated with fur and velvet roses, over which she wore a beige cape with reddish brown embroidering. She was an image of warm sunshine on trees, and so they headed for a park to meet her peers.

"So…" she smiled at him encouragingly as they treaded the fine gravelled pathways among the flower beds in full spring bloom, "what did you propose to the imperial leadership?"

"Oh, I wasn't in the palace this time," he corrected her, but she remembered herself at the very moment.

"Sorry, you've been to the Town Hall. In any case, what was it about?"

"Very well," he started and she could see excitement creeping into his face and lighting up his eyes. "Electric lights, Helen. Think – the whole city lit up by electric lamps at night, and all households being electrified instead of using gas. I have been constantly working on improvements of electric lighting, and now I felt confident that I could make it happen, here in Vienna. Just envision it, Helen, it would be so spectacular. But I'm afraid that we're closer to having electrified trams than street lights and households."

"I love the idea, Nikola," she said, truly impressed. "But what about the source for all this energy? It would have to be massive!"

"Thank you, Helen," he nodded in appreciation. "We would have to build a power station, of course. And it so happens I have been working on a prototype system that I have been testing, successfully, I might add, at my own house. I am confident I could make it work for a city as well. But the Rathaus doesn't believe in me. Hurts my feelings, as you can surely imagine."

Helen smiled at him with sympathy. His vision was ingenious and if he had been given a go by the Town Hall, he would have definitely turned the Austrian capital into the World's Eighth Wonder; but, like countless times before, she suspected he was too early with his inventions. The civilization wasn't ready for them yet.

To cheer him up, she prompted him to tell her more about the power station. When he finished, her admiration for his mind had reached new heights, but could not find words to tell him.

He woke up from his dream momentarily and turned to her. "But you haven't told me the purpose of your visit, yet."

"I am here to see The Sleeping Beauty," she said with a taunting smile.

"Oh, are you? I thought they had a very good production of it in London," he raised an eyebrow, willingly taking the bait.

"All right. I am meeting someone from the ballet company after the performance."

"Anyone interesting?"

"Oh, yes. Very much so," she nodded and her expression confirmed her statement.

"Well, you certainly know how to get a man on the edge of his seat," he asserted. "Metaphorically speaking. Come on, tell me."

"It's Sanctuary business, really. She's an abnormal."

"You don't say. An abnormal ballerina? May I come?"

"It might be dangerous," she said, to give him fair warning, even though she was unworried about his ability to make his way through dangerous situation without so much as a scratch. She was actually glad he asked to join her, it would be extremely useful to have him there, just in case something goes sour.

"Your point being…?" he gave her just the reaction she had anticipated, and she smiled.

"It will be my honour, then," she said and Nikola returned the smile.


	2. Chapter 2

They took an early supper in his attic apartment the following evening before going to see the ballet. They had not seen much of each other in the course of the day, both being busy with their own things. The "meeting" Helen was supposed to have with Annabelle, the ballerina, actually turned out to be an extraction, as she was now explaining to Nikola.

"She is quite unique. In the wrong hands, so to speak, she could be fashioned into a powerful weapon. And she is concerned that such wrong hands would very much like to get hold of her soon. That's why she's asked for my help. She'd prefer to work for the Sanctuary network than be abused in that way."

"All right, put me out of the agony already and tell me what she is," Nikola ended her beating around the bush rather abruptly.

"Well, I suppose you could call her a siren…" Helen shrugged and earned a puzzled look from him.

"As in…?"

"It is a combination of intriguing properties that she possesses. You are familiar with legends of sirens who lured sailors into the depths of the ocean with their beautiful singing, no doubt. Annabelle is similar. When she sings, or when she dances, you can think of nothing else. It's quite like being under the influence of a drug. But the most interesting part is that her abilities are not aimed at causing harm – quite the opposite. She makes you feel elevated, and she possesses some healing powers as well."

"I can see how a girl like that can find herself in need of protection," Nikola nodded. "But altering her brain to turn her into a weapon would require some serious science."

"There have been theories… and experiments," said Helen darkly.

"So someone wants her to be able to sing their enemies to death?"

"Mock all you want, but there are certain frequencies of sound which might prove lethal to a human brain. And she is able to produce them, even now. All they need is to enhance those powers sufficiently."

"Tragic, really," Nikola replied with sympathy that was uncharacteristic of him.

"Yes, I suppose it is," she nodded. "Thank you for volunteering to help."

"Oh, no problem. It's not like it involves attending the longest ballet performance ever written," he grinned. She gave him a remorseless look.

"I know, I know, I asked to come," he raised his palms in defence.

Some time later and a short carriage ride away they found themselves in a box in the State Opera. Nikola could not really complain about his situation – he was, after all, sitting next to a lady he (and half of the other gentlemen in the theatre) had just evaluated as the most beautiful of the attendance that night, and he was facing a prospect of enjoying that position for the next three hours.

"The Lilac Fairy?" he turned to Helen after inspecting the cast in the programme and finding Annabelle's name next to the role. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Helen just smiled at that, and said nothing.

The ballet started shortly afterwards. When the Lilac Fairy started her solo, Nikola's jaw fell in awe. Helen was right - there was nothing else you wanted to see when this girl was dancing. Annabelle's step was light as a falling snow, however cliché that expression might have sounded in his mind. This was pure beauty – and it made him happy.

"She's amazing," he breathed out and his mouth formed a broad smile of a person completely charmed, not unlike a child seeing the lights of Christmas on a cool winter evening.

Helen nodded. She seemed slightly more composed, but amazed by Annabelle's performance none-the-less.

The fairy finished her dance, gave a slight bow to the audience and was just about to tiptoe to the background, when a sudden sound explosion tore through the theatre. A gunshot.

Nikola woke up with a start and glanced over to Helen: "I thought they wanted her alive?" he asked, raising his voice over the commotion which had broken out in the auditorium below.

"They weren't shooting to kill," Helen shook her head, and shot from her seat. Two men were climbing the stage, while the Lilac Fairy, so far unscathed, dashed to the side, disappearing between the wings.

Helen and Nikola stayed only to see the direction in which she was running, and immediately started after her. They ran down the narrow staircase in the closest proximity of the stage, where they literally bumped into Annabelle, as she was making her escape.

"Helen!" the girl recognised her from the description Helen had given her in their previous correspondence. The lady just nodded.

"Come on, quickly!" she urged both of her friends, and they ran towards the back exit.

"I'm Nikola Tesla, by the way," Nikola introduced himself in a hurry. Annabelle acknowledged that with a brief nod, not even pausing in her flight. "Nice to meet you," she gasped, nearly out of breath.

They could hear noise from behind them, suggesting their pursuers were closing in on them. Nikola forced the door of the hind exit and they fled into the night, the chilly spring air searing their lungs and raising the hair on the ladies' bare arms.

Footsteps behind them.

Another gunshot fired, and Nikola, caught in the run, collapsed onto the cobble stones, shot through the chest from behind.

Helen spun around.

"Nikola!"

A fragment of a second later, she too fell onto the street, blood already staining her frosted pink dress.

Annabelle watched the scene in horror, unable to move, but Nikola, who had recovered slightly, found enough presence of mind to shout: "Run, Annabelle! We'll find you! Run!"

Finally, she obeyed and only narrowly escaped another bullet.

The pursuers started after her, but by then Nikola was already on his feet, caught up with them, and ignoring more lead coming his way, he grabbed the two men by their throats, lifted them way above the ground.

"The girl," he growled quietly, overcome by rage and fear for Helen's life, "does not belong to you. And if my friend dies, there will be no place on this planet you could hide from me. I will hunt you down and kill you in the most agonising way you can imagine," he promised them, deliberately speaking slowly to prolong their suffering. Then, while the men were on the verge of death already, he threw them against the wall, hearing them land with a bloodcurdling thud.

Nikola turned around. "Helen!" he cried out and ran towards his friend, who was lying motionless on the cold paving stones, her dress soaked in blood. "Oh my God, Helen! Don't be dead, please, don't be dead!"

He checked for pulse and breath, finding both still there, but only just. His brain was overwhelmed with electricity, his synapses busy evaluating the situation and trying to figure out what to do. In the end, he lifted Helen into his arms, as gently and as quickly as he dared, and breaking into half-run, made back for the Ambassador.


	3. Chapter 3

The night receptionist's eyes widened in horror as Nikola burst into the foyer with Helen in his arms.

"Mr. Tesla, what happened?"

"Call a doctor. My room. Now!" Nikola shut him up with firm orders that would not take no for an answer, and rushed past him to the lift.

"But… Mr. Tesla," the receptionist asked timidly, following him, "wouldn't it be wiser to take the lady to a hospital?"

"She'd bleed out before we'd get her there," Nikola pointed out impatiently. Not the best time to be arguing with idiots. "Now get to the phone, you moron, and call the goddamn doctor!" he snapped, and the receptionist finally ran off.

"Hang on, Helen, we're almost there," Nikola whispered to the unconscious woman in his arms as he entered the lift and the pressed the top button before the shocked porter could do it.

"How did that happen, Mr. Tesla?" the porter asked in horror.

"Well, she did what she always does – tried to save someone's life. Still believe there's a God above?" he couldn't help himself and saw the porter cross himself mentally, but he seemed to understand the sniding comments came from Nikola's fear of losing his friend.

"Are you all right, Mr. Tesla? Your shirt is all bloody," the porter noticed.

"That's hers," Nikola lied.

The cabin of the lift stopped on the attic floor and the porter quickly opened the door for him and helped him get Helen onto Nikola's bed in the apartment.

"Thank you," Nikola nodded at him, and added: "I am sorry if I am too harsh, it's just…"

"Please, don't worry about it, sir," the porter dismissed it and got up. "I'll go see if the doctor's here yet."

"Thank you," Nikola nodded again, and turned his attention to Helen, whom they had placed in a half sitting position on the bed to lower the blood flow to the wound. He didn't want to leave her side for a single second, but there were things to be done. He dashed into the bathroom, pulled the bloodstained shirt that betrayed the gunshot over his head, threw it in the corner and quickly put on a clean one. He did not need those kinds of questions right now. Next he washed his hands as best as he could and returned to the alcove where the bed was standing to inspect the wound.

He pulled the left sleeve of her dress down gently, and was relieved to find the shot did not go through the heart. Instead, the bullet lodged itself between the collar bone and her breast where he could see it shattered at least one rib. This, and the extensive bleeding, would be the worst of their trouble; they would have to take care of the tiny bone fragments. He was confident he could do all this himself, but not without proper equipment, which was why he needed the doctor.

A knock on the door. Nikola shot up and went to answer it, to find the porter and a man who must have been the doctor in his company. He nodded in appreciation to the porter, who then left, and led the doctor to Helen, filling him in on what he had found out before the doctor's arrival.

The physician, thankfully, seemed like a good professional who knew exactly what he was doing. He inspected the wound briefly, coming to the same conclusion as Nikola, and said: "She will need a transfusion, Mr. Tesla. Are you willing to help her with that?"

"Anything to save her, Doctor," Nikola assured him. Besides, he thought to himself, maybe my vampire blood will facilitate the healing…?

"Very well. I took the liberty of sending a porter to the hospital to get equipment for the transfusion, since I do not possess it myself. He should be back by the time I extract the bullet and the bone fragments and close the wound; then we'll take care of it."

His composure was an immense help for Nikola. He appreciated that no annoying questions were asked, that his actions were not scrutinised and simply accepted as the way things were.

"Let me help," he requested and the doctor agreed immediately.

They did not utter a single word until the wound was completely cleaned and stitched. The transfusion equipment arrived shortly after, as the doctor had predicted, together with a nurse who would assist with the procedure.

"I expect the police will want to hear how this happened," the doctor spoke in a matter-of-fact tone while Nikola's blood flowed through the tubes into Helen's body.

"We tried to save a girl's life, that's what happened," Nikola shrugged, much calmer now that the operation seemed to have gone successfully and Helen's vitals were stronger.

"And what of the girl?"

Oh, thought Nikola, remembering. Annabelle. They would have to find her soon.

"She is missing," he sighed. The story was already complicated, at least for someone with the unfortunate job of turning it into a police-friendly account. But the police wasn't there yet.

Nikola ignored the doctor's warnings to stay put at least for a short while after the transfusion, and trusting Helen into the doctor and the nurse's care, he left to look for certain creatures of the night he was confident would help him find the missing girl.

He was less worried about Helen now that it seemed she was going to pull through without complications, but Annabelle was a different story. He suddenly wished he had ripped the men's hearts out instead of letting them live, nevertheless with any luck they should still be out cold in the backstreet, or too scared to try looking for Annabelle again. Besides, killing someone to protect or revenge Helen Magnus was out of the question. He couldn't bear the thought of her hating him. They would stand on opposite sides – she the preserver of life and he the destroyer. There was no way he was assuming that role.

"Nice work earlier, Nikola," a shadow of a voice said behind him suddenly. He had braced himself for the sudden encounter, so he managed not to jump out at the sound of it.

"Hello, Alaric. I expect you'll know what I need from you then…?"

"Looking for the siren girl?" the black figure guessed. It was definitely masculine, albeit not tall, and very slender; giving the impression of a menacing creature risen from the sewers and evoking the idea of pain and thousands of sharp teeth. However, it seemed to be in a pleasant disposition as it was making conversation with Nikola at that particular moment.

"Yes," Nikola confirmed.

"Not an easy prey to catch, this siren girl. She doesn't give herself away if you know what I mean. She's practically untraceable."

"No energy signature or a special scent, is that what you're saying?"

Alaric nodded.

"Where would she go in a situation like this?"

"This is a big city, Nikola. She could be anywhere."

"All right, let me put it this way: she knows we are friends and that we are looking for her. She had asked for Helen's help. Now where would she go in that case?"

"Ah, Tesla. Why couldn't you simply arrange an emergency meeting place instead of bothering fellow creatures of the night…?" Alaric sighed.

"Yes, I agree that would have been the most logical course of action," Nikola admitted. "But the assault gave us no chance to do that."

Alaric rolled his eyes. "Try any place with deep shadows, is my best guess," he said then with a shrug. "How is Magnus, by the way?"

"She should live."

"Very well, then. Successful hunt, my friend," Alaric gave Nikola a curt bow, and disappeared as suddenly as he had materialised.

"Fat lot of good you were," Nikola remarked sourly when his friend had dematerialised. Then he turned away and this time the sudden apparition did startle him.

"Hello, Nikola," said Annabelle. "I am very glad you are keeping your promise."

She was different now that they stood in the deserted street all alone. She wore a long cape and had replaced her ballet dress for an aesthetic one. She still looked completely otherworldly somehow. There was nothing human about her at that moment, no frightened teenage girl he had seen fleeing from the stage at the Opera, she seemed centuries old and the daily grind of the world was happening outside the scope of her reality; it did not concern her.

"I am simply helping Helen," he replied. He had a strange feeling of affiliation. This girl was somehow from the same environment as he was. Maybe her kind has walked the planet together with his thousands of years ago. Either way, he liked her instantly.

"It is very lucky for her you are a vampire, wouldn't you say?" she smiled slightly. "I hope she isn't seriously wounded…?"

"We are hoping she will make a full recovery."

"I am sorry to have caused trouble," she apologised.

"But you don't need Helen's protection, Annabelle, do you?" he guessed. Such a being as he had just seen didn't need anyone's protection.

"Not particularly, no. But I want Sanctuary protection. You will understand me, won't you? Some humans are so presumptuous; they think my kind is just animals whose power can be harvested. It is all rather exhausting. Working for the Sanctuary will spare me all that," she explained. "I am just sorry that Helen and you had to suffer for me to get where I need to be."

"Oh, I won't hold it against you if she recovers completely," he promised her with a hint of a smile.

"How gracious of you," she winked at him.


	4. Chapter 4

The news wasn't good when they returned to the hotel, a bit of a cold shower for Nikola, who just realized he had been taking Helen's recovery for granted, and now hated himself for having left her side while she was still in danger.

"But what happened?" he gave a puzzled look to the doctor, who shrugged.

"Everything was going well, Mr. Tesla, and then she suddenly started developing a fever, shivering... I must say I am quite helpless, although, of course, blood transfusion is never without risk…"

"Nikola, you utter idiot, did you give her your blood?" Annabelle snapped at him, another completely unexpected occurrence. He turned to her and gave her a disbelieving look.

"What was I supposed to do? She lost a lot of blood, and frankly, I had every reason to believe mine would help her," he added with a coded meaning.

"You can't just give her blood, you smitten fool, she doesn't have the same blood group!" Annabelle explained impatiently, and then she bit her lip, realizing where and when she was.

"The same what…?" he raised an eyebrow, just as she expected. "And did you just call me a smitten fool?"

"There'll be time for that later, Nik. Right now I need you to ask your friends to leave. I mean no disrespect, doctor," she addressed the physician directly, "but I know how to save her and you don't have to see how I do that."

The doctor, as puzzled as everyone else, turned to Nikola for advice and with a protest in his eyes.

"Please, do as she says," Nikola instructed him politely. The doctor still hesitated.

"You have no idea how to help her," Nikola reminded him. "Please, go."

"Very well," the doctor bowed, and he and the nurse left.

Annabelle removed her cape and sat on the edge of the bed where Helen was fighting the shock she had received.

"You can breathe, Nik, she's going to be fine," Annabelle said without looking at him, taking Helen's hand into hers. "You're going to be fine, Helen," she smiled at the injured woman, too.

She started singing. Her voice was clear and pleasant, and somehow had the quality of physically caressing the soul. Nikola watched her from a corner, his heart flooding with happiness. He knew it was some sort of a chemical trick Annabelle was playing on people, but he couldn't help himself.

Then she suddenly stopped and looked up at him, partly pensively and partly with an amused spark in her eyes.

"What do you say, Nik? Shall I stop now?"

He shook his head in confusion. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"Very well," she smiled, agreeing to stop teasing him. "Her blood's clean now. No infection in the wound, it's healing nicely. But I'm thinking, if I stopped now, she would still require some time for the rib to heal… and maybe give you some chance to _look after_ her…?" she explained her conspiration plan.

Nikola opened his mouth, but surprise wouldn't let him give her an instant reply.

"You wouldn't," he eventually dared her with a broad smile, and she winked at him.

"I won't tell anyone. Honestly. The pain will be bearable, I promise," she tempted him. "And you'll have the perfect chance to be an 'attentive friend'…"

"You're unbelievable," he concluded, loving the idea and loving Annabelle for even proposing it. It was devious and it was brilliant at the same time.

Another wink from her.

"Fine," he gave up, and she flashed a radiant smile at him. "Are you sure she can't hear us?"

"Don't fret, my dear vampire friend, she's in deep, siren-induced sleep. Courtesy of yours truly. And now tell me you're not a smitten fool," she added victoriously.

"All right," Nikola gave up. "If you insist on hearing it: I love her. I really do."

"You can thank me later."


	5. Chapter 5

"How long?" asked Annabelle.

"Oh, about twenty years. Ever since I first laid eyes on her at Oxford. I'd never met anyone like her, so brave, so clever, such a huge heart. She'll fight with anything she's got for what she believes is right. And, on top of that, she's witty and extremely beautiful." With that, he fell silent, realising how much he got carried away. Not necessarily by means of words, but the intense, heart-felt emotions he lent them.

"That's essentially what I have heard about her," Annabelle smiled. "So where's the rub?"

"You mean why are we not together?" he assumed and she nodded. "She's with someone else. You see, there were five of us at Oxford, we did research together…"

"… which is where you all got your 'magical properties', I presume."

"Yes. And all of us fell in love with Helen. She got engaged to one of us, but his 'magical property' was of the murderous kind and he spun out of control. Some time later we lost touch, I have been too encompassed in my research – and the next thing I know she's in a relationship with another one of us. To be fair, I don't know how serious that is; I'm inclined to believe they're very close friends, but nothing more. Still, it doesn't matter, to be frank with you. I am not the kind of person for serious relationships. I couldn't make her happy, I could never give her all she deserves – and she deserves the world to crawl at her feet, trust me."

"Even you to change for her?" she asked, perfectly aware of how much he hated her for that question.

"My work is too important, Annabelle. Helen is happy – and I will survive the heartache of living without her. I always have. Which doesn't mean I'm not grateful to you for leaving her in my care for the weeks to come, of course," he smiled and the sparks settled back in the depths of his eyes.

"So you love her, but you don't want her."

"No. I don't know. It's complicated," Nikola shrugged evasively.

"And you won't make any effort to make it less complicated…?" Annabelle shot another one of her provocative questions.

"Well, it hardly depends solely on me, does it?" he retorted sourly.

"No, but you seem very comfortable with loving her from afar."

Nikola sighed. He felt cornered, and in a peculiar way, he felt like she was subjecting him to a cunning sort of psychotherapy – getting him to describe his emotions towards Helen as accurately as possible.

"You know what, Annabelle, I don't really feel like being judged by your grace," he made an attempt at fighting back.

"I'm not judging you, Tesla, I'm just curious."

"Well, don't be."

She laughed. "Look, I'll tell you how I see it, and you'll tell me if I got it right, how's that?"

He wasn't particularly sure he wanted to hear her insight. He knew it would be painfully accurate and it would make him ashamed of himself.

"You do love her," Annabelle went on in spite, "but you two being together would not make you happy. There would always be something missing, something you would sacrifice for her happiness, because you would want to provide her with anything and everything she could wish for. But you'd get very frustrated at not dedicating enough time to your research and the things you'd still want to give humanity. She is a scientist too, but your focuses have long since parted and you feel there is no way to reconcile them anymore. How am I doing so far?"

Nikola shot her a poisonous look.

"Well, you will see how you will both feel about this in a few weeks," she shrugged. "Do you hate me too much now?"

"No. I just wish you didn't make me feel like such a despicable character."

"You're not despicable, Nik, and certainly not evil. You're just torn between two objects of dedication, both extremely precious to you. And you know you couldn't serve one fully without neglecting the other. But Nik, it might not be like this forever. You both have centuries to live; there might come a time when being together will seem the right thing to do," she smiled at him encouragingly.

Nikola laughed out, amusement mixed with resignation. "Meanwhile, all I wanted was a single kiss."

"You can kiss her now," Annabelle suggested.

"Shut up."

"Just saying," she shrugged playfully.

"Be quiet, you devious creature."

"I will. As soon as you tell me where I can lay my head for the night. I am quite exhausted."

"You can take Helen's room," Nikola offered. He went over to one of the armchairs and shamelessly ransacked Helen's purse for her room key, which he found soon and handed over to Annabelle.

"There you go. Room 406. Will you manage on your own, or shall I walk you?" he wished to know.

"No, no, you stay here and watch over your angel," she refused his company. "Good night, Nikola."

"Good night, Annabelle," he smiled.

And then she was gone and he was left standing in the semi-dark suite, watching with loving eyes the beautiful woman asleep in his bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Nikola was sitting at his desk, writing something frantically into a little notebook. At times he would pause, count something or quietly mumble to himself and then writing again. It was his way to cope with the fear he'd felt when he'd found out Helen was in graver danger than he'd originally anticipated. There had been no time to deal with it earlier, but after Annabelle had left, it had all come back with a vengeance. Suddenly he'd had to sit down, and poetry was the only thing to make him feel better.

He finished three poems; one carefully bound in form, the others mere streams of consciousness, something he only experimented on tonight, because he needed to pour his heart out immediately and thinking up rhymes was too slow.

He capped the pen, laid it beside the now closed notebook on the desk, and got up to check on Helen.

She was still sleeping peacefully, and he felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude to Annabelle for making this happen. He sat down on the carpet beside the bed, carefully extended his right hand to take Helen's left and pulled it closer to him. Still holding it gently, he pressed it to his forehead for a moment, before emotion got the better of him and he did what he normally wouldn't have dared to: kissed the hand of his beloved tenderly, putting all his feelings for Helen into the simple gesture. He sat there for what seemed like hours, just holding her hand, treasuring the contact he would soon be denied again. it was quite possibly the most beautiful moment in his life – not happiness and exhilaration like when he made a scientific breakthrough, but something way more precious, heart-warming and comforting.

"Nikola?" he heard her voice from a distance and realised he must have fallen asleep. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to face her. So far she had not pulled her hand away from his clutch. The room was dim, but he could tell it was morning already.

"Helen," he breathed out. "How are you feeling, my dear? Are you in great pain?"

"It's bearable, I suppose. What happened? And Annabelle?"

"Annabelle can take care of herself," he dismissed her worry. "You got shot in the shoulder, Helen."

She clearly decided it was her turn to wave off his worries, and she tried to sit up, crying out in pain as she did so. Nikola shot up and pushed her back into the pillows a little more roughly that he'd intended.

"Are you insane?" he reproached. "Your rib is shattered."

"So? I'm still alive, but Annabelle might not be, unless we find her soon," she protested.

"She saved your life last night, Helen. Now she's sleeping it off in your room," he told her. "I went to look for her, as soon as I thought you were going to be all right. She found me, not the other way round. You could have told me what an ancient creature she is. In any case, when we got back here again, you had turned for the worse and she saved you. Everything is all right now, Helen, you do not need to worry yourself."

"Everything, you say? And what am I doing, lying in your bed in my nightgown?" she wondered.

"I didn't want you out of my sight. You are staying here, by the way, I am not letting you leave until you are better. Not that you could move even if you wanted to," he said seriously, not to give her the impression he had planned this all along.

"And the other matter?" she insisted.

"I didn't change you, if that's what you want to know. It must have been the nurse who came along with the doctor last night."

"Very well, then. But Nikola, I really cannot stay here. People will talk."

"Now you are concerned about what people say ? I am not doing anything wrong, Helen, I don't care what anyone else thinks. Besides, Annabelle will be here, and the nurse will come to attend to you (?) every day."

"Annabelle needs to get to London as soon as possible. Speaking of which, what did you do to those two?"

"Crushed their windpipes. Gently," he added.

"So they are alive."

"Yes, of course they are alive. Just temporarily incapacitated. Also, I don't believe they will ever be looking for Annabelle again. But I agree, we should get her to London before others are sent."

He sighed. Why was everything so difficult when she was awake? At night, when he could dream about her, when she was lying there in his bed, silent and beautiful, everything seemed so easy. Sometimes he even felt he could tell her what he had said to Annabelle, both directly and about Helen: that he loved them, each in a different way, of course. But now that Helen was awake, everything was back to its complicated normality.

"Nikola?"

He realised she was looking up at him thoughtfully, wondering what went on in his mind, and he made himself snap out of it and reach safer heights.

"It's Annabelle. She's quite amazing; I shall miss her," he said.

"Oh, I am sure that if you want to stay in touch, you can arrange that somehow," Helen smiled. "I did think you would like her."

"And you are not jealous? Not even a bit?" he returned to his flirty quips.

"Of Annabelle and you? Oh, she's all yours, dear friend," Helen offered and by the way she said the second sentence, he understood she had just out-witted him.

"Very clever," he jeered. "Now stay still, I shall go downstairs to see how Annabelle is doing and I'll bring you breakfast."

"How generous of you," she smiled. "Very well, then. I shall not move until you return," she winked at him.


	7. Chapter 7

They informed the London Sanctuary about what happened, and received a prompt reply saying that someone will come over as soon as possible to accompany Annabelle (and possibly Helen, pending her health condition) to England.

And Helen was indeed recovering quickly. Some days Nikola would leave her in Annabelle's care and venture out, mostly to the library. He would bring back books not only for himself, but for his companions as well, so that Annabelle could read to Helen while he was gone.

They did that, or talked for hours, laughing over anecdotes they shared; finding they both had a rather cheerful disposition if there was space enough for it to manifest – and then they would be unstoppable. They also found a similar trait in Nikola when he joined them in late afternoons or evenings, and then they would entertain themselves with stories from their pasts, each having accumulated hundreds of them over years.

It was one morning after Nikola had left that Annabelle discovered his notebook with the poems he had written about Helen.

"Well, well, what have we here?" she smiled mischievously and delved into the lines, her face lighting up like a chandelier.

"What is it?" Helen asked, all curious as she saw Annabelle's playfully evil expression. "Oh, not much, just some poetry I've just found."

"I love poetry!" Helen lit up. "May I read it?"

"Of course," Annabelle nodded and handed her the notebook.

"My love, the light is fading from your eyes

And I, swallowed by fear, can barely move

My Juliet, bleeding, asleep you lie

If I lose you, there's nothing left to lose

Your hair, from whence the sun once rose at dawn

Now dead around your face as pale as moon

And I over your midnight pose will watch

Not to miss a moment if you leave for good

I crave the sunshine dwelling in your smile

Still dreaming of the kiss we never had

Sweet ecstasy of your lips touching mine

Brings me to verge of tears, and drives me mad," Helen read, and her mind began to sense there was something awfully familiar about the situation described in the stanzas. But it wasn't just the story behind the rhymes themselves, it was also something else – the handwriting. Helen looked up abruptly.

"He wrote this?"

Annabelle nodded mutely. "I thought it was quite beautiful, didn't you?"

"Oh, dear God. I had no idea…"

"That he loves you? How did you manage that? Just the way he looks at you says it all."

"I never thought… He flirts with me all the time, but I never… thought he was serious! Oh, God, what do I do now?"

"First of all, you start hating me for making it awkward between you. Then you decide how you feel about him, and give him a firm answer, whatever it is. He's in pain, Helen, and he's scared. And I know I have just done a terrible thing, but I meant well. You should work it out, rather sooner than later."

"But that's none of your concern, Annabelle!"

"Like I said, hate me now, fall in love later," Annabelle shrugged. She had been vulnerable for a few minutes, expecting Helen's judgment to hurt her; however, she was past that point now. Thousands of years seeing how people could be stupid when it came to love, and now she was over it. How she would be judged did not matter anymore.

"We can't be together."

"Yes, he expressed that view the other night. What's your reason?"

"You don't understand, Annabelle. Every time I see him, every time he looks at me, I want to lose myself in him, I want to kiss him into oblivion, but at the same time it's just… too impossible. He's… you just never know what he's up to. He's so engrossed in his world of science, and he doesn't care one bit about the consequences, about the moral implications of his actions. And I cannot deal with that. I stand for something in my life, Annabelle, I have my principles and make no compromises about them, whereas he steps over the line all the time. And I can't read him, I can't really trust him, and I don't want to be betrayed."

Annabelle mused over it for a minute before deciding she had it up to here with this world's relationships, and then stretched out her hand, asking for the notebook back. Helen handed it to her immediately and Annabelle put it in its original place on the table.

"You're wrong about him, you know," she said to Helen. "He's a good man."

"Yes, who plots for world domination every time you turn your back," Helen pointed out sourly.

"Why? What does he want to rule the world for?"

"Oh, he wants it to be like it used to be when vampires had it under control. He seems to think it was a golden age."

"So he wants that back…? And you are scared that it would bring back slavery, am I right?"

"Yes – something like that."

"Very well, so you both want the world to be a better place, but each have a different view on what said 'better' is?"

"I guess so," Helen shrugged, and suddenly noticed a strange glow in Annabelle's eyes.

"You pesky little humans!" she spat out. "You are just so full of yourselves! What gives you the right to decide what the world should be? There are way too many creatures living in it to make it your choice! Just listen to yourselves – you act like it's all about the two of you, like either of you is the one with the noblest idea and should be listened to! Well, wake up. Neither of you has the power to take over the world. No one has that kind of power. And you can have your Sanctuaries and everyone finding shelters there will be grateful, as they should be, but don't pretend it's anything more than that. You're a guardian for the weak, but you don't get to decide which way the world will turn."

"Thanks for the lesson," Helen replied slowly. "I'm not sure why you think I want to rule the world…"

"Helen, please, you're a control freak. You're used to things going your way. Maybe you don't realise it yet, but I can feel it in you. You can make a lot of difference, and I believe you will. Nik, on the other hand, has no such power. You can make people follow you and even die for you. But he, I'm sure you'll find, is much shier than you in that respect."

"And you are sure you're not saying that just because you have a weakness for him, are you?"

"Seriously? You're jealous of me?"

"No, I just don't understand why you would think I am evil, that's all."

"I never said you were evil. Neither is he. Just somewhat delusional."

"I don't want to take over the world!" Helen protested.

"You don't think like it that way. But the tentacles of your power are already stretched across the world. You move in the highest circles, cooperate with governments…"

"Which means I could theoretically change the world to my liking, isn't that so?"

"No, it isn't. You might have acquired some influence, but that's just politics. You would have to change all creatures' mindsets; you would have to harness the universal power of the planet."

"Why don't you tell Nikola that, then?" Helen frowned bitterly.

"Because he's harmless."

"Now that has to be the joke of the century," Helen snorted.

"Come on. He's somewhat delusional and very impractical and can't fathom the true consequences of his actions, but he is a good person. Maybe what he needs is someone to keep him in line? Someone to question his moves and tell him 'this won't work because…'?" Annabelle suggested. The golden rule for when one overreacts – change the focus to something else. It will be less awkward and you will probably get off without having to apologise.

"And you think it should be me," Helen assumed.

"No. You're obviously not ready for each other and I'm tired of trying to change it."

"Why would you want to…?"

"Because it's so painfully obvious that it really bothers me. Anyway, I guess I am offering you to keep an eye on him until you're ready, how's that?"

"Wait, this keeping an eye on him would mean…?"

"Right. Still jealous. Look, if it makes in any easier for you, I don't see him that way. And I don't really stand up for romantic relationships – when it comes to myself, of course. Mainly because there's no one left I could spend the rest of my eternal life with."

"But he could."

"Good point. But no, I still don't see him that way. Besides, you're the only woman for him and that won't change."

"Very well, then. If you really want to do it…"

"Oh, I love being the neck that moves the head."

"He'll kill us both if he ever finds out, plotting against him like that."

"He'll love me for that, dear Helen," Annabelle replied in her thoughts, and on the outside just shrugged it off.


End file.
